


Surrender

by Spookery



Series: Ain't No Place For No Hero [1]
Category: Borderlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spookery/pseuds/Spookery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Either you do what I ask, or you hand over your guns." // Kat (kizzack) and I decided to try our hands at writing our vault hunters into the Borderlands universe. I felt like posting a little background thing for my commando. Head over to her page for a little more information about our OC losers (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2321975) before we start writing too much about them and you stop caring! Yeah!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender

**I’m going back out there.**

Aiden’s hand curled around the marker tightly as he set his fist on the map. Roland had been berating him all morning--in a way he still wasn’t quite used to. There were dark smudges all over the glass top of the map from the two writing things out, then erasing them with the heels of their palms.

**It’s not your decisi**

Aiden slammed his hand down before Roland finished the sentence, and scribbled a large **IT IS MY DECISION!** over it. Then he stared hard at the Crimson Raider, jaw set, and waited until the response came, one letter at a time. Roland wrote precisely. There would be no mistaking what the order was.

**Either you do what I ask, or you hand over your guns.**

Roland’s eyes were hard as he capped the marker and stared back.

**I don’t need to be coddled.**

But he merely pressed his finger to what he’d written a few seconds before, drawing an invisible line under he second half. As soon as Aiden reached over to wipe a clean space to write, Roland snapped, “Stand down.” He’d said it a million times the past couple weeks. Aiden had no trouble reading those words on his lips.

So, with that, the soldier dropped the marker and stormed to the other side of the room to sit heavily on the worn couch.

“.....”

He exhaled slowly, resting his forehead in his hands. Did he really expect it to come to any other conclusion? Jesus. He went out yesterday, to bring back psycho masks and marauder guns, to prove he was fine. That he could fight. That he was _not_  disabled. And he’d shown up at the New-U within ten minutes, with Roland waiting right there for him.

Finally, he raised his hands slowly. “I--don’t--want,” he signed clumsily.

The raider pursed his lips, then walked over to Aiden and crouched down. “I--know.” His hands moved more easily. Muscle memory, from having dealt with newly-deaf soldiers plenty of times before, no doubt. “I’m--sorry,” he signed simply.


End file.
